These days, when we read the newspaper or listen to the news, we can’t help but feel the urgent need to stay mentally alert. It’s because this generation is suffering from a serious illness of chaos and disorder.

A few days ago, I read a front-page article in the New York Times (9/29/94) that was both shocking and saddening. Two senior officers and fourteen other police officers from the Harlem precinct—who were supposed to lead and protect the public—were arrested by their fellow officers for charges of bribery, robbery, and perjury. It was truly tragic. Rather than cleaning up drugs and crime in Harlem, they resold confiscated drugs, took bribes from drug dealers, and even used threats to extort money, which they then used to buy homes and enjoy luxurious lifestyles—sharing the gains among themselves. When they raided secret drug dens and faced large amounts of cash and drugs, it seems they slowly gave in to temptation. The price of a single bag of drugs—called modern-day gold—was equivalent to a year’s salary for a police officer. In such disparity, they stepped onto the path of self-destruction.

Similarly, in Korea, the tax corruption scandal involving officials in Incheon’s Northern District and the horrifying serial murders committed by the so-called “Jijon Group” (a criminal organization targeting the rich, reported 9/21/94) show the extreme end of materialism. This obsession with wealth leads to disregard for human life, the collapse of values and morality, and a loss of awareness. Those who should have managed material wealth became completely consumed by it. Even though people are meant to be loved and material things are meant to be used, the order has reversed—material things are loved while people are treated as disposable tools for wealth. This opens a dark chapter in our society, nation, and history.

Our greed for material things spreads like a plague. If it’s not treated promptly, it festers and stinks—manifesting in luxury and indulgence, hastening our mutual destruction. Often, we complain that we have nothing to wear, even though our closets are full, or nothing to put on our feet, even though our shoe racks are overflowing. Unlike the past, we don’t throw away clothes because they’re torn or shoes because they leak—we discard perfectly good things simply because they’re out of fashion. Then we return to the department store windows like modern-day beggars.

In the 1980s, during President Marcos’s height of power in the Philippines, his wife Imelda became infamous for her obsessive shopping. Her hoarding of goods became legendary. Whenever she visited Macy’s in Manhattan, the store would close to the public and the managers and assistants would rush to fulfill her requests. It’s said that her purchases alone could match the store’s daily revenue. Although their time has passed—marked by crimes exploiting public taxes and privatizing national wealth—her 3,000 pairs of shoes may still represent a piece of our collective greed.

Like bacteria that invade our bodies without warning, materialism seeps into our lives, sometimes settling when our defenses are weak, sometimes retreating. The worries, depression, and conflicts born of materialism spread imbalance and anxiety in families and society. They infect our whole being until we suffer from a grave illness—and eventually death.

When I examine myself, I feel ashamed. Although I seem to live in peace, every month’s bills remind me how recklessly I use my credit card. Living in America, I’ve come to realize the only thing that grows is credit card debt. I wonder if the illness of greed has taken deep root in my life.

There’s a saying: “It is wise to prepare carefully for the future, but not to exhaust our hearts, drain our strength, or torment ourselves with worry.” In this age of indulgence and consumerism, we must deeply reflect on whether the dam holding back our spiritual lake has cracked. Instead of trusting in the promises of our Heavenly Father, we often find ourselves curious about the ways of the world—and before we know it, our feet are caught.

Just as it is natural for parents to protect and love their children, it is certain that God—who watched over us yesterday—will guard us today and in the days to come.

“Look at the birds of the air: they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

In the depth of our spiritual life, we must rediscover the simplicity of living that the Lord calls us to. That is the only way to survive in this chaotic generation.

May the bird that once freely soared above the blue sea of Galilee two thousand years ago also fly freely within our ailing hearts today.